


About the heart

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:39:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8913646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Christmas for Mulder and Scully





	

Written for @leiascully’s XF Writing Challenge: Snowed in  
Rated mature. Perhaps not all that safe for work!

There was a man, tall with dark hair, and a woman, short with auburn hair. They were rugged up against the cold, with chunky scarves and boots. There was a dog, off to one side, scouting around two small bushes. There was a house, majestic behind the couple, with a rosebush-lined driveway leading to a proud verandah. In the background, there was a thick stand of pine trees, pitched tips pointing to the deep blue sky. The scene tilted and twisted and snowflakes began to fall.

“Scully, do you think that when snowflakes fall, they say to themselves, wow, look at all these humans, not a single one of them is the same.” He held the snow globe up to the light.

“Mulder, did you seriously just ask me if frozen water is sentient?”

He wiggled the glass again and watched the snowy scene like a child might watch…well, a snow globe. “We’ve seen stranger things.”

“We have, but not in Hawaii.”

“Scully, did you know that there was a dusting of snow on the peak of Mauna Kea in June this year?”

“It’s not going to snow, Mulder. You’re dreaming.”

“Of a white Christmas, and only with you snuggled up by my side. That’s my heart’s desire.” He blew her a kiss just to annoy her, and took the snow globe to the counter of the gift shop. As he waited for the store attendant to shuffle from the back room, he picked up a Wild Hawaii book and a pair of gaudy wine glasses with mountainous peaks etched into the glass.  
Scully peered over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’ve never been able to work out if you are genuinely afflicted by supreme bad taste or if you do this deliberately.”

He held his hands up and gave her his best wounded look. “What? They speak to me.”

“The voices in your head are not coming from tacky wine glasses, Mulder.”

He took out his wallet and gave the old lady a dazzling smile. “She loves me.”

 

The cabin was beautiful, secluded, surrounded with exotic flowers and palms, nestled in the foothills and with its own pool. Scully laid a towel on the lounger and tested the water. It promised relaxation. She sat on the tiled edge and let her lower legs get accustomed to the temperature. Just as she decided to slip in, Mulder launched himself from the door of the cabin and dive-bombed into the pool, leaving her drenched.

“Come on, Scully. What’s taking you so long? The water’s beautiful.”

 

Lazy days were what she’d fantasized about. Since returning to the job, she’d dreamt more often of holidays. When they were younger, their entire lives revolved around The X-Files, around the conspiracy, around finding the truth. They were dogged and with seemingly boundless energy, barely resting unless ordered to do so. Now, they had begun to unravel more mysteries but they got tired. Since the bizarre lizard man case, and Mulder’s incessant chatter about monsters being real, she’d needed to wind down. Skinner had even agreed to look after the dog she’d…rescued. Mulder had offered to make travel plans but she’d seen his collection of brochures: American Homestay in the Mid West, Appalachian Adventures, Texan Chainstore Massages and Hot Tub Mystery Tours and jumped online instantly.

“What are we going to do tonight, Scully?” Mulder was lying on the bed, face down, a pillow tucked under his head. She admired the plane of his back, ridged with muscles, the tapering waist, his still wonderful ass, his long legs. She knew what she wanted to do. “We’ve got our stockings hanging over the fireplace, we’ve decorated the tree, we’ve got enough food in the fridge to feed a small tribe of Menehune.”

Scully looked at the pair of her prized lace-top stay-up stockings that Mulder had pinned to the mantelpiece with tacks, cast her gaze over the sad-looking peace lily that he’d strung a plastic lei around and opened her mouth to ask about Menehune, before thinking better of it.

“Menehune are a race of hairy hominids said to inhabit the wilds of Hawaii, living in caves and communicating by grunts and growls.” He rolled over and beckoned her over. “That book I picked up is fascinating.”

She sank down next to him. “It’s Christmas Eve, so I guess traditionally we should wait for Carollers, drink mulled wine and leave out carrots for Santa’s reindeer.”

His hand trailed up her back, around her waist and settled on her thigh where he circled his fingers, edging closer. “Did you know that the legend of Santa’s reindeer is probably linked to the Norse God of Thunder, Thor, who was pulled through the sky by giant, horned goats. Pagan traditions were plundered by Christians and in turn brought to the New World by European settlers and so the story of St Nicholas’ transport was born.” His thumb wisped over the front of her panties and she sucked in a breath.

“And did you know that originally, Donner and Blitzen were named Dunder and Blitzem, but the 1949 song ‘Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer’ brought these new variations to our consciousness.”

He slipped his fingers down the front of her underwear and found her centre, gently rubbing and teasing. He pulled her down and under him, removing her panties and trailing kisses up and down her thighs. She sighed.

“And did you know that for a while in Germany, Christmas trees were decorated with edible items. Things that tasted good.” He parted her and licked. “Things that were tasty, smoky, tangy and so delicious that you’d want to worship at the German Christmas tree for days at a time.”

He washed his tongue over her again and she pulled at his hair. “Mulder, you talk too much.”

 

They ate, they drank wine, Mulder talked, Scully listened. She really did. She stored away all the tidbits of information that he supplied her with, in case she ever needed to quote him back to him. She’d become a veritable encyclopedia of Mulder-facts over the years and she often wondered if he’d accumulated any medical knowledge from her. The thought of him reciting the bones of the human body was...strangely erotic.

“What’s your favourite Christmas memory, Scully?”

“Seeing my father dressed as Santa carrying our sacks and tripping over his boots as he tiptoed past our bedroom. He dropped the lot, mum following behind and doing that really loud whisper thing that’s even more noisy than actual talking, and the pair of them ending up in fits of giggles as they tried to sort out the mess. Missy and I watched from behind the crack in our door and I remember thinking back then that even though Christmas is all a charade, it’s a wonderful illusion.”

Mulder chuffed into her hair. “That’s pretty cute. I can’t imagine a time when you would have believed in magical men and flying beasts.”

She pulled back and gave him an eyebrow. “No, that came much later in my life. What about you, Mulder?”

“We got snowed in one year. Samantha was so excited, squealing at the snow as it fell. I loved it too. That absolute quiet that snow brings, where everything is frosted and looks so fragile that it might snap. I think my father’s temper was and did. He didn’t like being penned in. It snowed for days. Mum baked a lot, Dad did keep the back door clear and Sam and I made a huge snowman. She wanted to call it Perry, I wanted it to be called Elvis. I think it melted before we agreed.”

“That’s a nice story.” A happy Mulder family memory.

“I love you, Scully. I want this to be your perfect Christmas. What would you wish for?”

“I can’t have what I’d wish for. You know that,” she leant in and kissed the side of his mouth. His chest shuddered against her face and she let the tear slip. “But I’d settle for a peaceful day with you. If there could ever be such a thing.”

He snickered. “I wished for peace on earth once, with the Genia. I didn’t like what I got.”

“Mulder, you are the most bizarre creature I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something. But I do love you, and whatever weird and wonderful day we get tomorrow, I’ll treasure.”

 

Before he locked the door, Mulder shook up the snow globe. In the morning, he looked out and looked out and looked out. He rubbed his eyes, opened his mouth, closed it again, looked away and looked back out. It was definitely snowing. Big, fat flakes of beautiful snow. He opened the door and a fierce blast of icy air hit him.

“Scully, you might want to come here.”

“Is it my Christmas surprise? Are you wearing nothing but a sprig of holly and…oh my.”

It wasn’t that often that Scully’s face displayed complete and utter disbelief. Well…it had been a little while…okay, she hadn’t done for a week or so, but her expression was gold. She stood next to him, open-mouthed, eyebrows high, eyes wet and wide open, hands on hips.

Palm fronds shimmered with snow, glorious patterns decorated the frozen top of the pool, the roof of the cabana was white. It was so quiet, so peaceful.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered eventually. “Thank you, Mulder.”

He shrugged. “There was nothing in my book about spells and genies.”

She took his hand in hers and kissed each knuckle. “Sometimes, it’s about the heart, Mulder.”

“What are we going to do, now that we’re snowed in at our Hawaiian holiday haven?”

She turned to the rumpled bed, with a wicked gleam in her eye. “You’ll have to keep me warm.”

“Can I suggest then,” he mumbled into her neck, “that we climb into the sack and unwrap our presents?”

She kissed him back, long and deep. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said here. Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Did you know…”

She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, Mulder, and kiss me more.”


End file.
